Secrets
by oh-ohmy-oohhkay
Summary: A misunderstanding can go a long way. Especially when your best friend purposefully keeps you in the dark. But that's okay, Stan's used to his friends' shenanigans by now. Definitely an AU fic, more teenage drama more than scary/dangerous. One-sided Stenbrough and Reddie so far, and much confusion. Rated T for swears and adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

A young man stared at the door of his last period classroom. He twirled a finger in one of his dirty blond curls and pulled down; it bounced back close to his head. He held his chin in his hand and sighed. The teacher was still talking with five minutes left of class but no one was paying attention. The droning of his teacher became a low mumble as he thought about what he was going to do for the rest of his day, after his homework of course.

The bell rang and the young man slung his backpack on and headed out. He heard a muffled "wait!" but assumed it was for someone else. Until he heard a following, "Stan!" He turned around to see Bill Denbrough, his best friend.

"Oh, sorry, man," he turned and smiled to a flustered boy who was slightly shorter than himself.

"I-I-it's oh-o-okay, Stan," the other boy responded, trying to dodge the people in the hallway. "I w-w-was w-wondering, wha-at are y-you doing t-today?"

"I don't know actually," Stan said thoughtfully, "Why?"

"D-d-do you w-wanna hang ah-out?"

"Sure!"

They made their way to their bikes and started heading over Derry Elementary. Bill seemed a little out of it, not really looking around. Stan did though; he looked all over for Bowers, not taking any chances. He eventually found him, but in Officer Bowers' car driving home. He smiled in relief and giddiness.

"Bill!," he finally snapped out of it and looked to his friend, "You hear about the senior that got in-house suspension today?" Bill's eyebrows drew together as he looked around. He spotted the blond mullet through the police car's window just before it drove away. He turned to the dirty blond with a smirk and Stan mirrored it back.

They reached the elementary soon after that, coming through the backway up to the school. They wheeled their bikes on the blacktop as soon as the bell rang. The door for the secondary side swung open and a rush of fourth and fifth graders came out, running past the two high schoolers. Stan spotted Georgie through the sea of children and smiled. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his best friend's little brother, but it was always pleasant to see him. Georgie saw him too, and smiled wide.

"Stan!," the small boy shouted as he ran over. The high schooler bent down, holding his bike steady with one hand, and gave his little friend a hug.

"Hiya, Georgie," Stan greeted, "How are you?"

"I'm... okay," the boy said softly, almost sadly, and looked down at his shoes. Stan's brow furrowed together but before he could confront Georgie, Bill interrupted.

"C'mon, M-Mom's gonna w-worry s-s-soon." Sharon never cared what her boys did, as long as they were home for supper. Stan realized soon after, he was in the middle of a family issue. What's worse was that it was Georgie he had some problem with. Bill has always adored his baby brother. Their relationship was different from other siblings, always fighting or getting on each other's nerves. Of course it did happen, but not often, and when it did it was ugly. Both of the boys would be moody if there was something going on between them. And Stan was dragged into it... again. The price of having Bill Denbrough as a best friend.

Stan stayed quiet and helped Georgie on the back of his bike. He peddled past a confused Bill who was simply walking his bike.

"Bowers may be home, but I'm not chancing his goons," the dirty blond called behind. He heard the gears fast approaching and saw his friend zoom past him. They biked to the Denbrough house and leaned their bikes on the front of the house.

"We're h-home!," Bill yelled through the house. The faint sound of a piano stopped and a few creaks of footsteps signaled their mother's acknowledgement. She stepped into the hallway and smiled.

"Hello, Stanley; boys," she said to her guest then to her sons.

"Hi, Mom," the boys chorused.

Stan stepped forward, "How are you?" He extended his hand for a formal handshake, feeling somewhat awkward but smiling anyways. She looked at the offered hand, took it, and yanked the lanky boy into her arms for a hug. He was positioned oddly but fixed himself to hug back just as warmly.

"I'm well, how are you?" Sharon peered (surprisingly) down at the young man. He was slowly reaching her own height, even closer than her oldest.

"I'm well, thank you." She pulled back, her hands on his shoulders and stared at the still-growing boy fondly.

"Mo-m," Bill groaned impatiently.

"Oh, right." Sharon let Stan go. "You go on and play," she said reflectively.

"Mo-m!," this time Bill was embarrassed.

"Oh! I mean, 'hang out'," she winked at her son like she knew what she was doing. Bill ran up the stairs and Stan went right after, leaving Georgie behind. He stared up after his brother and his friend longingly. He turned slightly and suddenly his mother's face was next to his. "It's piano lesson time!," she squealed excitedly. Georgie groaned like his brother.

Bill didn't look back but knew Stan was behind him. He swiftly opened the door to his bedroom and went in. The dirty blond slowly followed and sat on the bed next to his friend. Bill looked at him.

"S-S-Stan?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I t-tell you something?"

AN: What? A cliffhanger? "A pretty lame one at that!" Well the certain "something" is already being written but will be after the second chapter! See you soon~ ;)

P.S. the "mo-m" is like "mooooom" but shortened.


	2. Chapter 2

(If you want to skip Richie and go right for the "something" Bill wanted to tell Stan, then go ahead and skip this chapter:))

He saw two boys hop on their bikes before he could escape the crowd of teenagers, rushing home for the day. They peddled at least two blocks before he considered was close enough to call out to them. He slumped over moodily to his own bike and yanked it from its place on the rack. Where the hell did all my friends go?

"Hey, Richie," a voice squeaked behind him. It wasn't high enough to be a girl's voice, but damn was that high for a high schooler. Richie turned around and saw none other than Ben Hanscom, the plumpest of the Losers Club. Richie had been yelled at numerous times for calling Ben that, but it was true! Ben had plenty of time to grow anyway. All the fat would turn into height soon enough, so Richie didn't feel that bad. He could call him worse; don't they realize that?

"Hey, Ben," the spectacled boy said, unintentionally deeper than his usual voice.

"Have you seen Beverly around?," the shorter boy asked hopefully. Richie shrugged. "Oh," Ben mumbled, failing at hiding his disappointment. Just then the door swung open again and revealed a tall, ginger girl. Her tight, dirty-red curls were just past her ears and her eyes were a captivating blue. "Bevvy!," Ben shouted happily. She spotted him too, and smiled with an unmistakable charm. She walked towards them.

"Hey, Benjibow," she purred, not seeming to notice Richie was still there.

"What?," Richie didn't hold back; when did he? Beverly finally noticed him.

"It's a nickname I gave him a while back," she explained.

"What in hell possessed you to come up with that?" Ben and Beverly looked at each other and shrugged.

"Just did," they chorused sweetly; sickeningly sweetly.

"Glad one of us gets to see their boyfriend today," Richie blurted. Why did he have to be so careless? He thinks it makes him look cool but it's just gotten to the point where he ruins his own life. Ben looked to be blushing at the muttered comment but Beverly smirked.

"W-We're not, um," Ben stumbled over his words. Seriously? He's taking that out of what the life ruining comment had?

"Eddie absent again today?," she asked casually. Why, you little...

He sighed, defeated. "Yeah, he was." He shrunk into himself. "I'm worried about him," he said softly after a moment. Beverly stepped closer to him and rested a reassuring hand on his forearm.

"If Eddie's ever safe, he's at home. God knows that his mother probably quarantined his room because he coughed. I bet he's well looked-after." She was probably right, Richie thought, but just couldn't shake the worried feeling in his chest.

"What if...," he paused, trying to think his next words carefully. "What if his mom..."

"Found out?," she questioned gently.

"What?"

"Found out... about you two?"

"What? No! It's not like... like... like we're dating or anything." Richie's mind started to reel. What if Mrs. Kaspbrak did have a suspicion and thought her son was gay? What if she could tell that he was in love with Eddie? Oh my God. He imagined Eddie's inhaler then, and thought about if one would help him get his breathing rate down.

"Hey, hey, hey, you two aren't a couple. I know that. And it's not your responsibility to deal with his mother's paranoia, got it? She wouldn't hurt her own son, especially if she's that crazy to protect him." Beverly had her hands on his shoulders at this point, trying to comfort and not smother him at the same time. He looked so horrified by the possibility she had suggested, she felt responsible for what happened entirely. "Hey. Why don't we go see him, huh?" That visibly seemed to calm the noiret down.

"See... Eds?"

"Yep! We can go see him. Even if he's sick we'll say it's important."

"See... Eds."

"Mhm," she hummed as she got her own bike from the rack and started walking it on the path. Richie snapped out of it finally and followed her lead. Ben hurried with his short legs after them.

Richie peddled past Beverly, not realizing he was speeding up even after he had past her. He only thought of seeing his best friend, alive and yelling at him for saying something about his mom. He loved it when Eddie yelled at him. Sometimes he'd even pull his fist back like he was about to punch him. That was the most thrilling moment of his day, even though he never actually hit him before. Bill had punched him once; it was exhilarating. He could only imagine what it would feel like if his Eds punched him, the pain, the adrenaline. He almost completely missed the Kaspbraks' walkway but put down both his feet before he past it. He left his bike on the lawn and ran up the steps to the door. He composed himself and knocked on the door three clean times.

The door whipped open to reveal a stout woman with accusing eyes and thick glasses.

"You," she spat at the freckled boy at her door. "I bet you're the one who's infected my child! What are you here for? To finish the job?!," her voice cracked with paranoia.

"I'm not sick, Mrs. K, I swear on my father's grave," Richie put on the charm and raised his hands in surrender. She cracked the door open a bit more and examined Richie with a suspicious, beady eye. Then she grabbed just below his shirt collar and dragged him inside, shutting the door as Beverly and Ben pulled up.

Beverly smiled and turned her bike around. "Wait, what are you doing?," Ben had saw what had happened but didn't wanna leave just yet.

"He'll be fine," she said dismissively.

"But...," Ben trailed off. Beverly looked over at her friend.

"Hey, Mrs. Kaspbrak is crazy, I'll give you that, but she's no homicidal maniac. Just overprotective." Ben still looked at the house worriedly. "You should be worried for Eddie," she said off-handedly, "He's trapped in a house with his mother and Richie." The redhead walked away with her bike and after a moment the short blond followed her lead.

AN:

Some vocabulary that I learned from reading fanfics (or maybe Tumblr) that are featured in this chapter are:

Noirette/Noiret - Raven haired/black haired person.

Blonde- female-blond- male

(And I'm not positive but I think longer ending hair-describers are female and the shortened one are male as well)

Also, I have many chapters hostage for this story. MWAHAHAHAHA. We'll see how you like it. There may be deception ahead, you may leave this experiment at anytime. Happy Monday! See you soon~


	3. Chapter 3

Bill biked home alone on that Monday afternoon after school. Georgie had a dentist appointment at 11 in the morning so their mother didn't bother waking him up. Bill had to wake up though, but didn't complain. Not that he was afraid of the dentist or anything, just that it never felt exactly pleasant when a man aggressively picked at his teeth and then criticized his teeth care, or the fact that he's suggested countless ways to fix his stutter, which never worked.

He walked up the driveway and put his bike away in the garage. He waltzed in his house, humming to himself, and marched up the stairs to his room. When he got to his room, his door was already open, but only an inch. He pushed it open cautiously and saw his little brother on his bed with a book in his hand. The cover was a navy blue with no words. It wasn't until Bill saw the silk, red page holder that he realized what book that was. He gasped, his breath somehow void of his lungs. His heart jumped into his throat and his stutter wouldn't let him even start a syllable.

Georgie was scared, too. He nearly jumped off the bed at his brother's surprised sound. He shut the book quickly but sat completely still, eyes wide.

"I'm sorry," the little boy whispered as Bill walked over to him. Bill slowly took the book out of his little brother's hands and put it back on the shelf. He sat down next to him, not saying a word nor looking at him.

"What did you s-see?," he asked quietly after a moment.

"Not much," Georgie muttered. "I only looked through the first few pages..." Bill didn't say anything for long time, his body was completely still but his mind was zooming everywhere. He resisted the urge to force Georgie to get into the specifics. He could have seen anything. Bill tried to think of what even was in the first few pages but his heartbeat was so loud he only focused on breathing. "I don't think it's weird, Billy...," the boy barely whispered.

"Get out," Bill sighed through his teeth as soon as he heard "think."

"Okay," Georgie hopped off the bed and nearly ran out of the room.

Bill tried to forget what had just happened, for Georgie's and his own sake. Despite his efforts, he barely paid attention to his homework, filling in the blanks but not absorbing anything. He finished his last math problem and put his stuff away. He flopped back on his bed and glared at the ceiling, then at his smaller bookshelf next to his bed. He lazily grabbed the book out of its hiding place and really took a look at it since he saw it in his baby brother's hands. The red page marker wasn't where Bill had left off; it was on the second and third pages, where Georgie said he was. He was actually interested enough that he moved it to where he was, or it was because of his boyish curiosity that made him play with any gadget that was in front of him. Maybe he wasn't even reading it... but he was.

"I don't think it's weird, Billy."

Of course he'd be interested in his big brother. Bill was his idol after all. He wanted his secrets of how to be so awesome and how to be so smart and make beautiful pieces of art. Georgie knew his brother had a mind that was one in a million, he knew that from the start. And he was always so kind to Georgie. He had seen other sibling relationships. They were awful. Most siblings didn't like each other at all, the younger purposefully annoying and the older being mean. Bill and Georgie never tried to hurt each other. They had mutual respect, and both knew how lucky they were for that. It was heartbreaking when that trust was questioned, or taken away all together.

Georgie truly felt like crying when he sat at the dinner table. It was the four of them, like always, his father at the "head" of the ovalish table, his mother beside him at the other "end" of the table, and Bill across from him. Bill didn't look at him at all. He ate his food silently but not oddly, their parents didn't think anything of it after a simple, "Tired, Bill?"

"Yes, Sir," he punctuated his words, but was soft. His father looked at Bill.

"You hear that, Sharon?" She looked up from her food. "Our son's speech is improving everyday," he said with manly pride, looking at his oldest. She only smiled since her mouth was full. "I'm sure you'll completely grow out of it soon. You're a lot better than when you were little."

Bill forced a smile, "Y-yeah." He didn't get his hopes. He couldn't. Not again.

For the rest of dinner, their father was talking about his day at the office, mainly at their mother, who nodded along and occasionally hummed a reply. Bill finished his food first, washed his plate quickly, and went up to his room. Georgie had eaten half of his food when Bill left the table. Nothing else was touched after that.

Zack Denbrough noticed his youngest son's distress but froze. 'Oh god. Feelings,' Zack thought to himself. He looked to his wife across the table with subtle-but-pleading eyes. She looked up eventually and was a little surprised, to say it mildly, at her husband's gaze. He gestured to Georgie with his wide eyes then looked back to Sharon. Her face fell from curious to annoyed in a heartbeat. 'What?,' Zack mouthed at his wife defensively.

'You're his dad, you know,' she mouthed back at him dramatically. The grown man across from her slouched down moodily, a pout protruding from his lips. He couldn't care less about what his sons did with their free time, but he knew when to step in if he needed to. He just hated doing it.

He had already felt the tension from those two not saying a word, or doing anything for that matter. He did his best to distract them- that's what Zack thought he was best at- but he was tuned out entirely. Sharon was better with the feelings part of this; she always was. It wasn't like he didn't try but damn. He felt useless. He would never admit that to anyone of course, not even Sharon, but she already knew she was better.

He was the rule enforcer after all. The bad cop, and she was the good one. It worked. Zack was very proud of how his family turned out. His eldest might have a stutter but he was pretty damn smart, smarter than his father, and talented too. He's come up with the most dazzling of crafts and drawings. His youngest had his mother's looks and his father's charm, already a ladies man from a toddler. His kids had won the genetic lottery, and Zack reminded them of that whenever he could.

Although they were a bit of an emotional bunch. What could one expect, from having such a sympathetic and kind mother? He had grown up with a number of sisters, younger and older, different moods and attitudes everyday. He knew when to stay away and when to distract. His sons were just as moody, but he couldn't distract them with chocolate for very long until they were upset about their problem again.

He looked to his wife again for a reassuring sign that she was going to handle this. Nothing. He sighed inwardly, not wanting to upset his youngest any further.

"Georgie?," Zack questioned gently. No response. "You don't like your food?" The little boy sucked in a breath through trembling lips. Zack's eyes widened. Georgie's face crumbled and he choked out a sob. "Do," Zack's voice raised an octave as he panickly looked to his wife and back to his son, "you want something else?" Georgie put his face in his hands to try and stop his sobs, or anyone from seeing them. Zack got up slowly and took his plate to the sink.

Sharon gawked at him the whole way there. She wanted to scream. Won't you be a damn man for once? 

* * *

AN: A tad more mindful than Ted Wheeler but he still chooses not to get involved with his own children. But yeah here's some feels that are "ow", well for a few paragraphs lmao. See ya later!


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Mind you this is the 80s. Just a heads up. 

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"S-s-so if y-you hear anything w-w-weird from G-Ge-Georgie, just ignore him p-please," he asked softly.

"But what's in there?," Stan was clearly missing an aspect of this story that would glue everything together. Is it an actual book? Is it a bunch of Bill's drawing that are "not for children"? Is it depressing poems that are far too personal for even Georgie to read? Bill pulled back at his question, he noticed, so it must have been something personal. _Not a real book then._

"It's...," Bill started weakly. Stan waited for his friend to get his words together. "It's m-many things..." Stan didn't say anything but gave him an expectant look. "It's... k-kind of," he mumbled the last part, purposefully obscuring his voice. Then Stan had an idea that fit perfectly.

"Like a diary?," he asked nonchalantly. Bill shot up, sitting up straight as a board and looking at his friend with wide eyes.

"W-w-what? N-n-n-no! J-just a n-n-notebook that I-I keep th-things in." Bill was slowly turning a shade of crimson despite himself.

"Just a book... with things you wanna keep from Georgie of all people?"

"W-well, it's... complicated."

"Complicated?," Stan asked after a pause. He tried not to sound condescending to his seemingly nervous friend.

"It's f-f-filled with all of m-my opinions and thoughts a-about e-eh-everything," he answered finally. "A-and some of th-them are different from the n-norm," he said just above a whisper.

"What could be so bad that you had to warn me about?"

"W-w-well," somehow Bill's face became a darker shade of red. "I-I just th-think that s-s-some things that a-are l-looked down upon aren't th-that bad. And i-if Dad found out th-that...," he trailed off, looking genuinely stressed out.

"Hey," Stan called softly, tenderly grabbing his friend's shoulder. "I don't think Georgie would do that to you. Ever. He's a smart kid."

"I know," Billy barely voiced. "A-and I-I wanted t-to tell y-you because, well..." He looked up at Stan with worried, doe eyes. "H-how do you f-f-feel about..." Bill looked mortified that he'd even thought about asking what he was about to. "N-n-nevermind," he squeaked.

"Bill," the dirty blond said sternly, pushing the shoulder in his hand to remind him he was there. "You can tell me anything, you know that." They stared at each other, Stan being patient while Bill looked bewildered.

"H-how do you feel... about... h-h-h-homos?," he asked like the other boy would explode at the words.

"Homos? You mean, like gay people? Girls liking girls, guys liking guys?," Stan knew to whisper at this point but Bill still put his hands up to warn his friend. Bill nodded hesitantly at the question. "I don't really care about it. But I can see why that'd be not good for Georgie to read about..." he wasn't sure about his next question but pushed on nonetheless. "How do you feel about it?"

"I-I-I don't have a-any problem w-with it. I-I think p-people sh-should love who they want..." Stan tried not to show any surprise on his face but was at a complete loss as to what to say next.

Bill had always been a caring person. He was literally a Snow White in an Evil Witch's world. Stan knew that he wouldn't hate anyone for doing what they wanted. But Bill was a part of a Christian family. He knew from history and even people then who knew he was Jewish, that Christians were a different kind of people. He had also heard of some boys-even men-who had gone after homos to beat the crap out of them, sometimes killing them. There wasn't that much of that nowadays, but the hate and disgust was still there, lurking in the now middle-aged community. Bill was always open-minded-and he never let his dad or anyone control his thoughts.

It was different this time though. He usually stood up, without fear, and stated his opinion. He wouldn't even care if someone disagreed or mocked him. He'd go on with his day without worrying for a minute about whether saying what's right was the right choice. Bill was hesitant with this. He asked Stan to disregard something about Bill's opinion that Georgie might have said. An opinion he kept from _Georgie_. Something was up. Something was personal about this.

"Bill? Is there something more to this?"

"W-wh-what do y-you mean, S-Stan?"

"Something you're not telling me?" Bill was silent. His eyes were glued to his fidgeting hands.

"I-I... Yes," he admitted softly. "I'm n-not... gay. Not r-really. I like girls. I kn-know I do. B-but... th-there's this one...," he murmured to his hands. "I d-don't want t-to," he nearly croaked but was barely audible.

"Bill." He looked up at his friend, his eyes glossed over. "Did you know that... that birds can be gay too?" Bill's face went completely blank, then shock, then downright confusion.

"Wh-what? H-how?"

"Well, I know that with swans that it's actually common and it just happens. And there's this species of bird called Ruff that focuses on getting other males' attention instead of the females when mating. Well, usually it's to get the female interested, but still. It's not like it's even unnatural for males to like males and the like," Stan's goal was to comfort but he felt as though he was rambling about his birds again.

"Oh," he sighed thoughtfully. He looked to be still distressed, with good reason of course, but Stan hated to see him like that. They picked up each other's emotions easily-too easily sometimes. He could've sworn that Bill did like someone, but that someone would be Bev. He was a little disappointed in himself for not noticing sooner.

"So, who do you like then?," he prodded gently. Bill stared at his friend, taking in his features. The barely blond curls around his head, the small... _what was it again?..._ _Kipa_ on the crown of his head, the beautiful chocolate orbs staring attentively back at him, the flawless skin, the stripped t-shirt that was always tucked into khakis shorts, the man's belt around his slim waist. Bill's mind reminded him then that the boy in front of him was expecting an answer to his question.

"I...," _Speak damn you_. Can't just say it. _No_. Say the opposite! "Richie."

 _WHAT?_


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Warning: swearing. That is all. :)

* * *

Secrets

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The stout woman dragged the teenager all through the house, finally stopping at the kitchen sink. It was spotless, of course; there was no sign of it ever being in use except for the tacky soap dispenser and a tightly folded towel beside it. She didn't bother barking any directions and moved his arm like it was raised for a question. She made a ring around his bicep with two stubby fingers.

"You will wash to here." She finally let go of him and looked to have been speed walking away to the laundry room. It took Richie a couple of tries, but figured out the weird dial on top of the dispenser to reveal the spout. It was foam soap. Richie loved foam soap. He pumped it about ten times and lathered it on his other arm, then likewise to the other one. He rubbed it thoroughly into his arms until he got to where Mrs. K had touched him. He was so grumpy today, but today felt like the best day in a long while. He got to play with foam soap (oh-so bubbly) and he gets to see Eds. His Eds. He felt the big goofy smile on his face but didn't care, not one bit. The washing off bit could've went a little smoother but he was sure Mrs. K was about to scrub it to death anyway. He grabbed the towel and flipped it to its normal size, albeit a little dramatically. Just as he got to his second elbow she came back in with bright yellow gloves and a laundry basket. She extracted the towel, as if it were toxic waste, and dropped it into the basket. "You may see him," she drawled unwillingly and retreated back from which she came.

Eds.

He took the steps two at a time until he reached a closed door. Eddie's door. He busted into the room, hoping to be yelled at by his favorite person for not knocking. But no yelling ensued.

"Eds?," he questioned the room, not registering why he was almost whispering. He saw an unmoving lump in the bed of his friend and inched closer. As he reached the side of the bed he could see his Eddie, sleeping like a rock. His eyes and nose looked red and puffy. He was curled up so cutely into his pillow and covers that Richie only stared in awe.

He brushed off some tissues and sat on the foot of the bed. After a while of staring at the cutest human being to ever be in Derry, Richie inched his hand on top of the covers to find Eddie's feet. He found the ankle first, then the calf, then the knee. He knew to stop there, lest he'd be marked a creep and, of course, out of respect for Eddie. Oh, how he'd missed Eddie. How he wished to talk with him. Why not?

He squeezed the knee in his hand. Richie was rewarded with shuffling and an eventual groan. He even got a glare, although Eddie's eyes were closed.

"Wha-t?," Eddie whined sleepily.

"Aw~ Is someone actually sick~?" The boy sat up quickly, immediately regretting it.

"How did... how did you get in here?" He was shocked to see his friend, understandable since he didn't even think Richie of all people would visit him. Especially without his mother putting up a fight...

"The window obviously," Richie scoffed as though he'd been climbing through Eddie's window since he could talk. The window was closed. Richie, Eddie's Richie at least, would never be that courteous as to close it after he got in. At this point, he didn't care.

He flopped back on the bed and stretched, softly pushing Richie with his feet. Richie giggled and wiggled his fingers threateningly close to the soles of the other boy's feet.

"I will end you," Eddie warned.

"Su-re you will, Eds." Eddie groaned at the dreaded nickname and didn't bother with another "don't call me that" that would fall on deaf ears. Richie looked at his annoyed-as-ever friend, smiling. Then remembered what his mother makes him take whenever he gets a fever. He slid up the bed, almost onto Eddie's lap, with worry etched into his soft, freckled face. Eddie's head made a thud as it collided with his headboard. Richie reached up with a tentative hand and lightly pressed Eddie's forehead with his palm. It felt warm. Which was understandable, considering the boy had just emerged from his sleeping cocoon, but Richie was still concerned. "Did you take any tylenol, you know, for a fever?"

Eddie blinked slowly at the out-of-character question. "Um, no," he replied softly. "It just feels like a head cold. Mother said it was a sinus infection and that I do need to take some-"

"DON'T FORGET TO TAKE YOUR PILL, EDDIE," a hoarse, low voice shouted up the stairs. Richie bursted into a fit of giggles.

"Funny how the world works," Eddie sighed, more to himself than anyone. Richie was still laughing, face turning a little pink from smiling so wide. "Wasn't that funny," he said to the trashmouth incredulously.

"SHE SOUNDED LIKE A FUCKING ZOMBIE!," he exclaimed, obviously not caring if he was overheard. Eddie gasped audibly at his words, smacking his hand in punishment. "Don't forget to take your pill, Eddie!," he used the most gravely voice he could muster and laughed again.

"Will there ever be a day when you'll leave my mom _alone_?"

"Nope," he had a smug, little smile on his lips and a gleam in his eyes. Whether it was from laughing or a mischievous plan, Eddie couldn't tell.

"Of course not," he sighed. He flopped down again on his bed, staring at the ceiling, until Richie started groaning. Eddie looked over to him, showing the maximum amount of annoyed on his features. He was rocking side to side slowly, eyes unfocused, and his hands reaching out in front of him. "Zombies don't groan, dumbass. You look more like Frankenstein." Richie groaned more obnoxiously and moved his hands to Eddie's face, almost poking his cheek. Eddie swatted his hands away before he made contact, giggling despite himself.


	6. Chapter 6

Warning: MORE SWEARS! MWAHAHA! How evil am I? Also may be hinting at adult themes(?)

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Secrets

* * *

He had taken his pill like his mother had asked, with some teasing from the bedroom door with a creepily bent finger. "Why don't you start chanting 'redrum' while you're at it?," Eddie mocked as he dumped the rest of the water down the drain. Of course, Richie did just that.

Eddie escaped Richie and went back into his bedroom, bouncing on the bed as he sat down. Richie followed him but calmly sat next to him, instead of continuing to bother him. Eddie was expecting him to turn at any moment and pounce on him.

Richie was completely content. All his usual sarcastic and savage attitude evaporated, staring blissfully at his Eds. Suddenly he got the perfect idea.

"Wanna play truth or dare?," he asked casually, pretending his heart wasn't pounding in his chest at the very thought. Eddie's guard dropped in surprise.

"What?" He must have heard that wrong. Richie must have insulted him or dared him to do something, or both.

"Truth or dare?," Richie smirked, feigning confidence like always. Eddie hesitated. Richie knew he'd pick truth, that was a no-brainer. He felt like he was being trapped but he wasn't taking a dare from Richie. God no...

"Truth," Eddie said cautiously.

"If you had to fuck a guy from the Losers Club, who would it be?"

" _What_?!"

Richie sighed. "The Losers Club. You know, me, Stan, Bill, Ben, Mike, you? Can't choose Bev."

"What kind of a fucking question is that?"

"A good one," Richie's smirk widened. "Alright, fine. We'll say 'date'," he said with air quotes after Eddie only stared with disbelief, not saying a word. Eddie looked to the floor after the amended question.

"I... I don't _know_ , Richie," he said after a few thoughts passed. "I guess..." He couldn't choose Bill. Bill didn't deserve to be dragged into this. He was an oblivious but sweet guy and he didn't deserve Richie's teasing. Richie, on the other hand, deserved all the teasing but the only teaser was him. Then Richie would tease him constantly and Richie would tell everyone and no one would believe him when he explained his mind processes. That left the one who could fight back with amazing, out-of-nowhere comebacks... "Stan." He kept his eyes on the floor with a surprisingly straight face. He knew how to play Richie's games, he ought to know them by heart by now. "Truth or dare?"

Richie's heart had fallen through his stomach, through the bed, and splattered on the ground. He wanted to completely fall apart and go home that very second. He kept his composure, though. His idea had taken an ugly, heart-wrenching turn but he wouldn't lose his cover because of it. "Stanley? Stanley Uris? Really?," he asked incredulously, his voice going up an octave at every other word.

"Would you just shut up and answer!? I answered yours!" Richie didn't answer right away. He saw his friend's face flush a darker red than the irritation around his nose. Richie's heart was into the soil below the house by then, and with it, his feelings, buried deep below the Kaspbrak house.

"I'd choose Bill," Richie blurted, but he knew what he was doing. "I like his black hair and slim figure... not to mention, his eyes are gorgeous... and his skin... flawless," he seemed to trail off since his voice became soft but he wasn't finished. "And his voice is the cutest thing in the world..."

"Oh... ka-y?," Eddie somehow felt even more uncomfortable after that. "I'm pretty sure Bill has brown hair not black hair..."

"It looks like black to me."

"Well, it's brown."

"It's the same thing, Eds."

"It's really not, Dick," he retorted, hiding his smugness of calling him a nickname that he hates.

"You little shit," Richie said through gritted teeth. He moved quickly into Eddie's "bubble" and Eddie squeaked in response. Richie grabbed his shoulders firmly and almost growled in his face.

"It's not fai-r," Eddie whined. "You call me Eds all the freaking ti-me."

"Well, you don't scare me. But I scare you so it works for me."

"I can be scary," Eddie pouted. Richie laughed obnoxiously in his friend's face. "I can!"

"Yeah, and I'm a girl that has telekinetic powers."

"What?," Eddie asked, very confused. Richie sighed in annoyance. "What?," he said defensively.

"Read a damn book for once..."

* * *

AN: What? Two Steven King references in a chapter of a Steven King based universe? What insanity! If you didn't get the references, the first one was The Shining and the second one was my girl, Carrie. But be warned! I don't any of them! Just in case any of you thought I was the King himself... yeahhh...


	7. Chapter 7

Warning: more swears and also a possible trigger. It is the 80s so you have been warned.

* * *

Secrets

* * *

"Oh, wow. Look who showed up today," a redhead smiled as she teased her smaller friend.

"Oh, wow, Bev. You're so-o funny hahaha," Eddie bit back sarcastically. He sat down next to her at the lunch table, Ben on the other side of her. Stan, Bill and Richie were in line for their lunch.

"You know, you become more like Richie everyday." Eddie whipped around and stared at Beverly with wide, horrified eyes.

"Why would you say something like that?!," he squeaked. She only smiled wider. "I don't wanna be like him...," he mumbled hopelessly to himself. Just then, Eddie noticed Stan making his way to their table. Only him.

Stan was about to sit in front of Ben, like he always did at this lunch, but heard a "psst" as he set his tray down. He looked up to see Eddie's wide-eyed look. "What?," Stan asked confused.

Eddie cleared his throat and looked at the open seat in front of him dramatically, then back at Stan. Stan slid his tray in front of him and plopped down in the seat he was now assigned to. He stared expectantly at Eddie while he cleanly ripped his sandwich into pieces.

Eddie leaned over the table but only made it halfway. "I need to talk to you," he whispered with punctuated words.

"Oh... Kay?," Stan mumbled with a bit of food in his cheek. "We're talking?"

"Stanley," he said aggravated.

"Yes?"

"You know what I mean."

"Well, what do you wanna do about it?"

"D-d-do about wh-what?," Bill sat down tentatively next to Stan. Stan pulled his arm into his lap to make room for Bill. Bill interpreted it differently.

' _He doesn't even want to touch me_...,' the boy thought sulkily. He didn't even realize the silent, and somehow violently expressive exchange between his friends.

'DO NOT TELL HIM,' Eddie mouthed at Stan, making sure Bill wasn't looking at him when he did.

'Why would I?,' Stan mouthed back.

'What?' Stan rolled his eyes back into his skull.

"Thanks for taking my spot, Jewy," Richie nearly slammed his lunch tray on the table next to Bill, but had his trademark smirk. Stan glared half-assedly, not wanting to give Richie the attention he's always so desperate for.

Beverly had been observing the exchange between her four guy friends, occasionally looking back and smiling at Ben's clear confusion. She sensed that something was wrong with all of them except Stan. He was acting normal. Glaring at Richie was a sign that he was fine, happy even. Richie glaring daggers back was a completely different and rather disturbing sign. Eddie's eyes were wide and he didn't seem to blink for the whole lunch, anxiously wanting to talk to Stan about something life-altering. Bill didn't even look up at all, and he barely acknowledged the tray of food in front of him.

"What even are gerbils?," she said to the sulky boy in front of her. _That got their attention._

The whole table looked at Beverly with confusion or disgust, or both.

" _What_ -"

"What do you mean, Bev?," Stan talked over Richie, smoothly taking Beverly's attempt at directing to the conversation.

"Like, are they like gophers? Or are they like ferrets?"

"They're nothing like ferrets," Eddie finally snapped out of it.

"Well," Stan started with a high voice. "They kinda are. They're both a part of the rodent family."

"Why the fuck are we talking about-"

"What does a gerbil look like?," Bev continued over Richie.

"It's just a h-h-hamster with a long t-tail," Bill spoke up finally.

"Wait, really?," Ben asked, his amazement of the world making Beverly smile. He somehow still had his child wonder, even after a year of high school.

"Y-yep. Just a-about the s-ss-ss-size of them, too."

They chatted like this for a while, talking over Richie until he finally mentioned something about the rabbits that hop around his front yard every other night. Stan, of course, brought up his birds and talked about which ones eat which rodents they were talking about. "Thanks for that image, Stanley," Eddie had groaned and Stan just smiled and hummed a "you're welcome." The bell rang finally and Beverly took Stan's tray. He gave a questioning look and she winked back at him. When his expression didn't change she tipped her head to Eddie's direction. There ya go...

She congregated with Richie and Bill over to the trash cans. "I do love rabbits...," her attempt at more light-hearted conversation fell on distracted ears. Bill and Richie were both staring at Eddie and Stan as they left the cafeteria side-by-side. Bill looked to be gloomy again and Richie seemed to be fuming. She could see the smoke spewing out of the trashmouth' ears but he hid it surprisingly well. For him at least.

"Damn fags...," he all but growled out, but only loud enough for the two closest to him to hear. Bill made it at the trash just then and slammed his tray into the garbage. He dodged passed everyone and left Beverly and Richie staring after him in bewilderment. "The hell's wrong with him?" Beverly sighed and threw out Stan's tray with Richie's. She waited until they were out in the hallway to explain to Richie what happened.

"I get that your sense of humor is abrasive or dark, or whatever way you wanna describe it, but you can't just say something like that with that much malice to your own friends. Sometimes, a _lot_ of the time, it's really not funny. It can border on bullying. That's probably what upset Bill." Beverly had a feeling it was more than that, but she knew better than to confide in Richie about her hunches.

Richie was still fuming, Beverly's words were doing nothing to diffuse him or make him stop thinking very derogatory terms, but he kept quiet. He knew Bev was smarter than him, it wasn't hard to see, and he would try to see things the way she did. She was very insightful, about the world and about people. He didn't want to hurt his friends, not ever. Even if he was extremely jealous of a certain Jew. But he could see was Eds liked him. He was a good guy. Better than him...

"Yeah...," Richie said at last. "I'm sorry," he said to her, just above a whisper. She smiled again kindly.

"It's not me you have to apologize to," she said softly. They both looked through the crowd and for a split second, saw the slick, raven hair before it disappeared again.

* * *

AN: Oof. So much angst. And don't ya just love Bev? :)

Tell me what y'all thought! I'm usually very quick to respond. And more chapters are in progress, don't worry.


	8. Chapter 8

Secrets

* * *

"Are you planning on telling me what you've dragged me here for or just stay paranoid for the rest of the day?," Stan had his arms crossed, leaning against the bathroom sink, staring in annoyance at Eddie. Eddie had just finished checking for feet under the stalls. Twice.

"Well, you know what, you'd check too. If you even _thought_ about someone finding out what your friend had said to you...," he demonstrated the rest of his thoughts with a horrified look.

"Well, what the hell did he say? Or she? Who are you even talking about?" Eddie rolled his eyes so hard that his pupils weren't visible for a moment, then looked at Stan with mirrored annoyance. "I guess you mean Richie."

"Of course I mean Richie!," he squeaked. "He was... different yesterday." He looked around nervously again.

"What do you mean 'different'?," Stan tried to coax his friend.

"Like," he started, "Like he always pushes me around, ya know? Gets under my skin for the hell of it. But yesterday he... barely made fun of me." Eddie looked back to his friend. Stan was still staring at him expectantly. When Eddie only stared back, one of Stan's eyebrows went up.

"So, what you're saying is, Richie wasn't an asshole, and you're... concerned?"

"What? No! That's not important."

"Then why did you-"

"Forget about it, Stanley! That just meant I was expecting teasing after his question but there wasn't any from him!"

"Question?," Stan was becoming irritated, like really irritated, which never usually happened with Eddie but he only had so much patience for run-on, plot-hole-filled stories. Eddie froze at the question and pointed at Stan.

" _That_ , is what I wanted to tell you about."

"Then just say it already!," he shouted at the smaller boy, his hands out to his sides. Despite the expected retally of Eddie getting upset, Eddie only moved next to Stan and leaned against the sink as well.

"He wanted to play Truth or Dare."

That... was actually a surprise.

"He... what?"

"I know," Eddie whisper-screamed. "And, obviously I wasn't about to take a dare from a more-crazy-than-usual Richie, so I said truth and he..." He looked up into Stan's face. "He asked me who I would-" he made a vague hand gesture, "-out of the Losers Club."

"Losers Club?"

"Yeah, um, me, you, Ben, Mike, Bill, and Richie. And I think Beverly too, but he said that I couldn't choose Bev." Stan thought that over for a minute then thought of an obvious question.

"Who did you choose then?" Eddie's eyes went wide, and unfortunately his face turned a shade of pink as well. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, staring at the suddenly-interesting floor. "Was it Mike?"

"What? NO! Why would you even think that? I don't do farm boys." He knew immediately that he screwed up. As soon as the "b" sound came out of his mouth, he was done for.

"'Don't do _farm_ boys,' eh?," Stan was epically failing at hiding his amusement.

"Okay, well, you know what I meant."

"Nah, I don't really think I do."

"Stan, you're being a real Richie right now." Stan's smile dropped and shattered into a million little pieces across the floor. Before he could even get the breath for a comeback, Eddie continued, "I haven't even got to the shocking part!" Stan rolled his eyes but let him finish. "So, I asked 'Truth or Dare?' back, and he just said who he'd do, like without me even asking, or even wanting to know in the first place!" Stan started fitting puzzle pieces together.

"Who'd he pick?" Eddie's eyes went wide again, but no personal blush this time.

"I... I'm not going to just _tell_ you. He described him like he was in _love_ with him."

"It's okay, I promise I won't tell him." Eddie thought it over, biting his lip and doing a 360 in the process.

"Alright. Alright, I'll tell you," he finally sighed. "It was Bill."

* * *

AN: Ohohoh boy. A cliffhanger. How will Stan react? Jk it's not that huge of a surprise. Anyway, love you all, chap ten is in progress, nine'll be up soon.


	9. Chapter 9

Secrets

* * *

The bell rang before Stan could make a comment about it, and he and Eddie walked back to class together. The blond was completely lost in his thoughts, creating plans and scenarios, and thinking back to when any of this could have happened. 'How are two of my best friends in love with each other, and I didn't notice either.'

They couldn't have known about the each other either. They'd have something going on by now, and they would have told Stan and Eddie that they were a thing, right?

Or maybe they wouldn't tell them...

Maybe they were actually a thing but not telling anyone that they were dating so they don't have to deal with the prejudice of other people. Maybe they were scared of what even their two best friends might think, and the whole 'Diary' and 'Truth or Dare' situations were because they both wanted to reach out, to tell them everything, but was still afraid to.

Or they just coincidentally fell in love at the same time.

Either way, Stan had a plan.

Eddie was thinking of some sort of plan as well, but not involving Bill or Richie. He knew that it would be best if he were the one to tell Stan that he chose him for Richie's little Truth, and definitely _NOT_ from Richie. He knew he had to be casual about it, or God forbid Stan takes it as a real confession. Eddie could practically taste the awkwardness out of his thoughts.

They made it to their last class of the day and not-so-sneakily got to their seats. They looked around but luckily the teacher wasn't even in the room yet. Eddie sat down heavily and looked over to a very-out-of-it Stan.

"Hey, Stan?," no response. "Stan."

"I think I have a plan," he turned suddenly. "It could work out perfectly, or disasterdly."

"What?," Eddie did not like where this was going.

"We'll set them up."

"Set them up? _We_?," Eddie's suspicions were right, as always. "Set who? How?"

"We'll set them up on a date, and we'll get Beverly in on this."

"What? No!," Stan was taken aback at his friend's disapproval. "You... You can't just _tell_ Beverly."

"Why not?"

"Cuz!"

"That's not a very good answer, Eddie."

"Because it," he glared at the ceiling. "Because it felt confidential and I only wanted you to know so I wouldn't be alone." Eddie's face fell into his hands, then another point came into his mind. "Wait, why do you think Bill would even _consider_ Richie?" He looked back at Stan.

"Because," Stan said softly, now the one looking around. "He told me so." Eddie stared numbly for what felt like hours.

"I'm sorry... _what_?," he all but hissed.

"We were talking and he said that he liked him."

" _What_?"

"...Yeah," he didn't know what else to say to that.

"That's just," Eddie looked down at his desk, " _Why_?" Stan looked at him expectantly until Eddie saw him. "Why Richie, of ALL people?" Stan smiled when he realized it was a joke, and not Eddie alienating Bill for what team he swung for.

"You don't have to help me, if you don't want to," Stan said after a few moments, Eddie's face still in his hands. Eddie sighed.

"I'll... They're my friends too. I'll stick with you through this." Stan smiled at his smaller friend. "Also... about who I picked...," he started.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Well, I don't want you hearing from Richie anyway," he played with the corner of his desk. "I... picked you." Eddie's tan cheeks had a red tint to them.

"Oh... kay?" Stan thought that this obviously couldn't be a confession of Eddie's "true" feelings for him, but was confused. Yet again, when don't his friends confuse him? "Why?" Eddie finally looked at him.

"What do you mean?," he asked softly.

"I mean, why did you pick me?"

"Well, I wasn't gonna pick Richie, obviously," Eddie rushed out. "And I wasn't about to drag Bill into his teasing. And I was _not_ gonna pick Ben OR Mike, so...," he sighed. "I know that you can shut Richie up pretty good. You got the best comebacks. I just kinda assumed that... his teasing wouldn't bother you." His eyes trailed down to his desk again. "And as soon as you told him off, he wouldn't bring it up again... but... he got so weird after I answered..."

Stan smiled at his friend. "You had faith in my insults?"

"Well, yeah, but more so your skin... I mean, your tough skin! Not like I like your skin or anything, I meant it fig-"

"It's fine, Eddie, relax. Don't hurt yourself," Stan soothed his friend's rambling. "We'll try to find Bev after this period, cool?"

"Yeah. Cool."

* * *

AN: Hello hello. Nice to see you all again so soon. School's almost out for me so I've had a lot more time on my hands without the excessive homework load, but I am going off to camp for the summer so this may be it for a while. Sorry. Have a fun and not too horrifying summer!


	10. Chapter 10

Unfortunately, Beverly ducked into her last period class before either of the boys saw her. She also had a lot on her mind. She was completely out of it when she sat down but startled into reality when she heard a familiar "Hello." She blinked her thoughts out of her blue eyes and faced the usually empty seat next to her. A small, warm smile greeted her.

"Mike?," she asked softly, then smiled back. "Well, well, well, look who decided to show up for class today."

"Yeah," Mike sighed. "My grandfather is... well, making me miss class a lot more than usual. He says I need to be more responsible with all my chores and I can't push them until after school because I "don't do em right" if I wait."

"Ah, I see. So I'm assuming he doesn't care about your college plans."

Mike laughed sarcastically, "He doesn't even _know_."

"Yikes," she said through gritted teeth.

Mike used to never miss school, had straight A's, and was even on the honor roll throughout freshmen year. He didn't have any friends though. Everyone knew who he was and everyone also knew who Henry Bowers was.

The long lasting feud between them wasn't all that bad. Mike got the harassment down to a minimal and met six other losers, whom all of which became his best friends. He wasn't sure who had best best friend status, but he didn't care. He was the seventh, and was just happy to be there. Especially since his grandfather got tired of all the persuasive essays and poster boards about the benefits of public school and agreed to let him go to Derry High for his sophomore year.

"You'll get there, Mike. You're a smart kid," Beverly assured softly.

Mike smiled. "Thanks, Bev."

Their chemistry teacher was at the board the entire period, not really registering that he was lecturing a high school class made of mostly sophomores. No one paid attention, and the ones who actually tried were lost in his babbling of his "glory" days of working as an actual chemist. The reason he decided to go into teaching would forever be a mystery.

The bell finally signaled the end of the school day and Beverly hastily packed up her stuff. She had her backpack on but waited patiently for Mike to finish up the notes. He looked up. "Um, it's okay, Bev, I gotta get all my makeup work anyway. You get outta here."

"Oh, alright. Have fun. See ya later," she waved then swiftly made her exit. As soon as she stepped out of the doorway, she heard fast footsteps progressively getting louder in the empty corridor.

She looked to the left and was greeted by a louder than necessary "Beverly!" A breathless Eddie almost fell into her but she steadied him easy enough. "I... needa... _wooh_ ," he huffed out, unzipping his fanny pack shakily.

"Eddie? Why the hell did you run? Are you trying to kill yourself?," she didn't realize she put her hands on her hips until Stan stood next to his dying friend.

"Dude, breathe," Stan directed, placing his hand on the shorter's shoulder. Eddie brought his inhaler up to his lips and breathed in deeply while pressing the top down.

"Don't tell me what to do," Eddie sighed slowly.

"Mind sharing your inspiration for sprinting at me?," she asked with an eyebrow raised.

"We need to talk to you," Stan told her simply.

"About?," Beverly asked, her bountiful patience wearing thin.

"It's a sensitive topic-"

"Bill and Richie are gay for each other," Eddie blurted. Stan slapped the back of his head, his black hair falling out of place. "STAN!," Eddie screeched, pulling a comb out of his fanny pack and fixing himself.

"Don't go screaming that in the hallway, then." Stan turned back to Beverly, "but yes. That's what we need to talk about. I have an idea but-"

"I wasn't even screaming," Eddie interrupted again.

"SHUT UP," Beverly and Stan shouted. Eddie backed away from the two with a pout.

"Bev, can we-"

"Talk somewhere more private? Sure. I know just the place," and with that Beverly turned swiftly, her skirt twirling with her, and strode towards the exit. Stan began to follow her but stopped when Eddie didn't move after a few feet.

"Ed, c'mon." No response. "Eddie?"

"I'm not going," he mumbled childishly. Stan refrained from rolling his eyes. Instead he walked up to Eddie, holding his smaller shoulders to encourage him to look up.

"Don't you want Richie to stop acting like a weirdo? Don't you want to help your best friend?" Eddie focused on the hazel eyes in front of him.

"What if we're wrong? What if we're just making stuff up and this'll turn out to be one big misunderstanding?," Eddie had pure worry strewn across his countenance.

Stan shook his friend's shoulder slightly, "That's why we need Bev. C'mon, we're just talking; nothing bad."

Despite his mother's nagging voice in the back of his head, Eddie jogged with Stan to catch up with Beverly.

* * *

AN: What's this? I'm not dead? Surprise! Still workin on this mother. Maybe one day I'll finish it...


	11. Chapter 11

Stan and Eddie bursted through the double doors, finding Beverly in deep concentration. They went out the back way, and the only difference from the front of the school was the dense forest stretching for about four miles in each direction. Beverly was studying the forest in front of them, scanning each tree. Then she found whatever she was searching for and snuck behind a large oak tree, hiking the tight trail through. Stan squeezed himself through the opening after her.

"Wait a minute," Eddie said, a slight panic rising in his gut. They didn't slow down. He fought a small battle in his mind and chased after them.

The sun only shone through breaks in the canopies of leaves above them, making it seem a lot more eerie than strictly necessary. Eddie was careful of the trees large invasive roots but still needed to catch himself a couple times. He felt his breath becoming labored.

"If I get Lyme disease I'm gonna push you off a cliff, Stanley," Eddie called to the figure in front of him indignantly. The figure turned around with a smirk.

"Just don't get any ticks on you. That's easy. What you really gotta worry about is the squirrels," Stan teased.

"Squirrels?," he scoffed, "What _about_ the squirrels?"

"Oh, you know. Rabies." Eddie stopped walking.

"You... you... RABIES?," he started gasping for air, taking out his inhaler again. Beverly turned around and scolded Stan with a mother-like stance. Eddie sucked down the spray from the cartridge and finally caught up with them. "How much... longer?," he panted softly. Beverly reached up the adjacent tree and moved a thin branch out of the way.

"The cliff," Stan said, connecting the dots. A flat expanse of beige rock reflected the afternoon sunlight, as did the curved wall surrounding the pond below.

"Oh," Eddie said as he stepped off the forest floor and onto the rocky cliff. He turned around. "Why the hell couldn't ya just tell us we were going to the cliff?"

"'Cause someone coulda followed us and listen in on our conversation?," she turned Stan. Stan nodded.

"We think Bill and Richie like each other," Stan rushed. "Bill told me recently that he likes a dude. I asked who and he said Richie. Then Richie told Eddie he would screw Bill if he had to pick."

"I wouldn't screw Bill but Richie would," Eddie clarified. "I said I'd screw Stan."

"Really not important here, Ed." Stan continued, "So I started thinking, and I realized, what if we set them up?" Beverly's eyes twinkled with mirth. She giggled softly.

"Sounds like you've been planning something interesting."

"Yep. And that's where I need your help. I have the base of the plan but I'm no good at details."

"Wait," Eddie interjected, raising his hands. "You," he pointed a finger at the taller boy, "had a plan?"

"More of an idea than a plan," Stan corrected softly.

"Well what is it?," Beverly prompted.

"Uh, w-we want our friends to be happy, right?," both of his friends nodded. "Then why keep their love a secret, right? Like, they both like each other and are probably terrified to pursue the other. If we give the time and reassurance, maybe they'll," he brought his hands together swiftly, as if pushing two objects together, "get together." Beverly's smile widened.

"Play matchmaker?," she tone was nearly wicked. "I've always wanted to play matchmaker. How do you wanna do it?"

"Um," Stan was a bit unnerved by her enthusiasm. "Like, set them up on a date? Like we'll all do something and then they end up alone or whatever." Beverly snapped her fingers.

"The carnival's in town. We could all go and ditch them on the ferris wheel." Stan's eyes lit up at the idea.

"Dude, yes. That's perfect!"

"Hold on a second!," Eddie's voice cracked. "What if they find out we're setting them up? What if they're pissed at us?"

"Why would they be pissed? We'll just tell them we got lost or something."

"Or better yet, we'll tell them where we want to go afterwards, and then say 'we changed our minds' when they find us again," Beverly said with a smug grin.

"What?," Eddie was somewhat panicking, but when was he not?

"Wow, you're good at this, Bev," Stan rushed out. "So, it's settled then. Saturday?"

"Saturday." Beverly started to go back through the woods.

"BUT THAT'S TOMORROW," Eddie flailed his arms dramatically.

"We know," Beverly and Stan said at the same time. Again. Before Stan could follow Beverly, Eddie grabbed the taller boy's wrist.

"I don't like this, Stan. I have a bad feeling about this whole thing."

"When don't you have a bad feeling about something?," Stan giggled. "Listen, if anyone asks, we'll say you had no part in it, okay?"

"What if it messes everything up? What if they end up hating each other or something and the whole Losers Club is broken into a billion little pieces? Bill's our leader and Richie's our glue. If they get together-"

"Woah, Ed. Relax," Stan said softly, holding Eddie's shoulders to keep him focused. "It's not like we're setting up their wedding here. We're just getting them alone so they can talk. Trust me, this is better than letting their emotions fester and let hurt themselves over and over again, thinking their feelings aren't right or something. And if we're wrong about Richie, then Bill will get some closure. If we're right about Richie, then maybe he'll stop acting so weird and be his normal self again." Eddie finally seemed to steady his breathing. He just needed to hear some logic sometimes.

"Okay... okay," he whispered into the sunshine filled air. "How can I help?"

Stan beamed at his friend. "I've got just the thing. C'mon." He lead Eddie back through the forest, explaining the tactic he wanted to use to make it a smooth Saturday night.

* * *

AN: This is a pretty easy write cuz it's just fuckin around at this point lol. But hey, at least I got a plot. Kinda.


End file.
